


Mountain Shadows Campground

by Rambert



Series: The radicalization of Craig Boone [2]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Feels, Campfires, Canonical Character Death, Catharsis, Cussing, Desert, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Independent New Vegas (Fallout), M/M, Men Crying, Menstruation, Mercy Killing, Mojave Wasteland (Fallout), Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV First Person, Pain, Period Cramps, Post-Apocalypse, Psychological Trauma, Putting the "men" back in "menstruation", Queer Character, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Tenderness, Trans, Trans Character, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28472106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rambert/pseuds/Rambert
Summary: A week or so after part one, Casey isn't feeling well due to monthly cycle bullshit. Boone decides this is a great time for a super serious conversation... [mind the tags - canon spoiler!]
Relationships: Craig Boone/Courier (Fallout), Craig Boone/Non-Binary Courier
Series: The radicalization of Craig Boone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2085471
Kudos: 7





	Mountain Shadows Campground

**Author's Note:**

> Me, busting out the "emotional baggage" and "men crying" tags again: oh uh whut how did that happen again ^^;
> 
> Oh and MAJOR SPOILERS if you're playing the game late like me and don't want to find out what's up with Boone. You've been warned (it's on the wiki)
> 
> Edit 1/8/21: I've decided that since I neglected to mention it at all in this series, that I'm going to officially say my Fallout universe is an AU where Carla was NOT pregnant at the time of being captured by Legion, and was instead simply taken for being young and beautiful. Everything else still fits with the canon but I just spaced out on her having a noticeable pregnancy, and I'm not going to go back and tweak this entire series to correct it when the baby would just be dead anyway...

I wake up feeling ill, but not in a nauseous way. No, this is almost worse-- my period has arrived.

There had been a time that I didn't have to deal with this... it was all too brief. When I'd had that Mojave Express job, I'd worked on the New Vegas delivery route often enough that I'd had regular access to the Medical Clinic. Dr. Usanagi had been very helpful in hooking me up with testosterone pills... but they get expensive, and I haven't been able to afford them for months-- it's part of why I took that risky package job in the first damn place. So this shit is back now.

Groaning as I pull myself into a sitting position, I wince from cramps. It feels like there's a half a dozen tiny hooks embedded into my lower abdomen, and when I move the wrong way they tug at me. Like someone pinching you hard and refusing to let go. It sucks.

The only somewhat comfortable position I can have right now is to draw my knees in to my chest and let my head rest on them, so that I'm in a sitting full squat. That allows a little of the tension in my pelvic bowl to lessen, but it's still throbbing in pain.

And then there's the fucking _smell_. I cannot _stand_ the sight nor smell of period blood, and it's the worst thing my body ever puts me through by far. Worse than the pain and the constipation is the smell that rises and lingers in this miserable heat.

I'm not going to be able to go into town for days again, reeking like this. And we're down to our last box of detergent. I don't know how any uterus-haver survives out here in the wastes without being a reclusive hermit one week out of every four. It's hard enough in the pricey casinos where you at least have access to mostly-clean water to bathe in... but tampons and pads disappeared with the bomb blasts. I've only seen them in history books and old film reels. No one makes that shit any more, or if they do it's for their own personal use not to distribute or sell.

One of the tiny hooks inside jiggles around, making me inhale sharply from the jagged-tipped pain.

"Fuck," I hiss softly as I try to readjust myself to get it to stop.

"What's wrong?" Boone's been out on watch, just coming back in time to see me shifting around.

"Nothing, just-- my period's started," I say through clenched teeth.

"What? ...Oh," Boone replies in belated understanding, then again lower: " _Oh_."

"Yeah, it fucking sucks dude," I sigh. "So I get it if you want to get scarce for a few days."

"Why would I do that?" Boone asks quizzically.

"Because I stink?" I say with a weak chuckle. "And I'm gonna be on edge and snappy, too?"

"...You do know I was married to a cis woman for a little while right? I know what periods are," Boone says, not meeting my eyes but sounding a little indignant.

"You can't possibly complain more than Carla did, and I never interrupted her either. I have no idea what that's like and can't imagine the annoyance."

Despite my current state, I notice my lips softening into a closed smile as I squint up at Boone in the morning sun-- this is the first and only time he's brought up his wife since I gave him the bill of sale I broke out of Jeannie May's safe.

"So the Novac residents weren't _all_ full of shit for not getting along with her, hm?" I tease, feeling a little better already.

"I never said that, Casey, don't push it. I only have empathy for you, not pity. Though you do look pretty pathetic and pitiable right now."

Boone is teasing me back! This is-- is this banter we're having? I'd thought maybe I crossed a line talking about his dead wife but I'm blown away, and can't help giggling-- but unfortunately that makes the hooks dig in and I gasp in pain.

"God dammit I hate this," I mutter, burying my face between my knees.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Boone asks with such sincerity I'm glad we're not looking at each other.

Sometimes I wonder how he's so willing to keep going after losing what seems like the love of his life. But I'm too afraid of the answer to that question, so I haven't asked it. I still don't know how he's so eerily _sure_ that Carla is dead and not still suffering at the hands of Legion somewhere, and he's refused to answer when I've asked with such hostility I've had no choice but to drop it.

"Some water would be fantastic," I say without raising my head, knowing the storage box is barely fifteen meters from where I'm sitting but across the camp is so _far_ from me right now.

I hear Boone's boots crunching on the gravel as he walks to it, and the clank of the metal box lid as he opens it. Then he comes back and I feel the bottle pressed gently into my hand.

"Thanks," I murmur, drinking nearly all of it in one go-- I needed it.

"No problem. I could forage with ED-E by myself today if you want to rest more," Boone suggests.

"Are you sure? You can take my Pip Boy," I offer, but he shakes his head.

"I don't know how to work that thing Case, it'd do me no good. Watching you use it is like watching an alien. But I need some practice on my low-tech tracking and spotting anyway, I'm getting too reliant on you."

"Mm. I see what's goin' on. You're usin' me for my know-how and you'll disappear to New Vegas soon as you get a good scratch," I joke, imitating a pre-war gangster in my speech inflection and antique word choice.

"Are you feeling all right?" Boone asks, and his voice is so serious that I have to look up into his face to see the faint smile there and know that he doesn't mean the bite in his words.

I laugh again, shaking my head.

"No, that's kind of the whole issue," I explain with a vague gesture down at my lower body.

"But go on, get out of here, I'll be fine while you forage. ED-E will obey your "wait" or "stay close" commands without me."

"Good to know," Boone says, but hesitates a moment.

"...We won't be gone too long," he adds before turning abruptly to leave.

And despite my discomfort I feel my cheeks heat up as I watch them go, ED-E following him now when he says "stay close".

Was that Boone's way of trying reassure me? And why am I blushing like a love-smitten dope over it?

I sigh and let my face sink back into my knees, the early morning bird song and the quiet breezes lulling my aching body quickly back to sleep.

\--

"Casey."

My name is coming to my ears as if I'm underwater. Where am I? Who is saying my name?

"Casey."

There's a hand on my shoulder gently shaking me. Orange light fills my eyes as they crack open, meaning that it's already late afternoon.

I startle awake and spin around so fast that Boone scrambles back a step.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he says in a chagrined tone. "I just wanted to show you the stuff I brought back is all. See if it might help you feel better."

"Oh my god, did I sleep all day?" I ask, my voice a raspy croak as I sit up and rub at my face.

"Last thing I remember is you leaving this morning."

"Wow, well you'll definitely need some water then," Boone insists, grabbing a bottle and holding it out to me.

"I found a farm with potatoes and corn to harvest. And I found some Med-X, if you'd like to take it."

I nearly choke on the water I'm guzzling down. I can't help it: I know he's trying to be nice but it's just so damn _funny_ , and I laugh before replying.

"You know that stuff is super addictive right? If I started using that for my period cramps every month you'd have a Fiend on your hands in no time. Thanks for the offer though, and at least we can sell that at a good price if we don't have to use it for an injury."

"Are you hungry?" Boone asks, blessedly deciding not to address me laughing at him.

"Probably," I say in between gulps of water. "Hard to feel anything down there on my period but I haven't eaten today so, lay it on me."

We eat a simple but filling fare of fresh ears of juicy sweet corn that we grill over the fire, and potatoes that we bake by simply tossing them onto the hot coals at the fire's edge. The potatoes take much longer to cook, but it's nice because we have time to suck every last roasted corn kernel off the cobs before pulling the hot potatoes out to cool.

Of course I'd kill for some salted butter and Tapatío and fresh-cracked black pepper to put on it all but, it's better than a lot of things I've eaten over the years. And my body needs these nutrients whether or not I feel the hunger at the moment.

The sun sinks out of view at last as we're eating, and the firelight throws shadows all around us on the boulders and cacti. But these shadows don't scare me any more; my Pip Boy map shows we're safe. And with two companions, I finally feel that way more often than not.

"That was delicious," I say while popping the last bite of potato skin into my mouth-- I like the snappiness of it.

"Glad you liked it," Boone replies as he starts wandering around the perimeter of the campsite to gather the kindling together, the intent being to get the fire roaring again one more time before we put it out for the night.

"I can do it, it's the least I can do since you foraged," I say, but in my haste to stand up the hooks snag and I wheeze.

"Sit," is all Boone says, and I find myself doing it without protest.

I generally prickle when addressed with a command, but something about Boone's tone doesn't feel authoritative. More like a worried spouse. Fuck, I shouldn't be going down that thought trajectory again.

As I watch Boone and my chin drifts back down to my raised knee, I can't help a thoughtful sigh as he feeds the fire and keeps watch. He didn't have to travel with me; he could have just left Novac to kill Legion like he'd planned. But when I asked him to accompany me he did. Why? I still haven't gotten a good enough answer. Though I suppose that if he'd asked me why I asked him, I might not have a good answer for that question either.

"Cap for your thoughts?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing," I lie, the words coming out automatically before I can really think about it.

Boone frowns, but lets it go.

"Are you cold?" he asks while bringing out the blanket from his pack.

Without waiting for me to answer he drapes it around my shoulders, and I feel my face getting hot again as I instinctively pull it around myself. Even in the desert heat of the Mojave, the windy nights _do_ chill me when I'm already hormonal and cranky, and the sweetness of the gesture isn't lost on me.

"Thank you Boone," I murmur as I cuddle into the blanket, feeling drowsy. "Let me know when you want this back."

"You can keep it tonight."

Boone looks like he's debating with himself about something, and clears his throat as he sits down next to me.

"Casey. I've been doing a lot of thinking by myself today. If you want to know what really happened to Carla... you should ask me now."

 _That_ snaps me into full alertness.

"What?" I can't help asking in disbelief, and Boone sighs.

"It's just... when I asked what was on your mind, you lied and said nothing. I know that I'm-- probably not easy to trust from your perspective right now so. If you want the truth before we get any farther traveling together, then now's your time to ask. While I pity you."

"...Wow." I shake my head a little, wondering if this is all some sort of fever dream trolling me.

But when I look back at Boone, he's holding my gaze. He's not afraid of being asked this time.

"...How do you know that Carla is dead, Boone?" I whisper.

"Because I shot her with this gun," he says miserably, gesturing to his sniper rifle.

I gasp audibly, my eyes widening in shock as Boone continues.

"There were dozens of Legion, Casey. Maybe hundreds. I'd tracked the slavers that stole her all the way to Cottonwood Cove, but there hadn't been a good enough opportunity to try and ambush them by myself. And when I saw that they'd linked up with other patrols and shackled her to a line of prisoners who were being auctioned off... I pulled the trigger," he says in a rough whisper.

"I knew she'd rather die than be subjected to the horrors of that abominable cult. I couldn't save her in any way but this. I gave her a fast death, and let her keep her dignity. At least, that's what I tell myself so that I feel like less of a monster."

There's a howl from one coyote, then another off in the distance. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Boone takes a shuddering breath.

"But I'll be honest, Case... every night since we set those troopers free I wonder if I did the wrong thing after all. And if you don't feel safe around me now... I understand."

"Wow," I say again, quieter. "I... I don't know what to say to that, Boone, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to say anything. If you want me to leave in the morning I will."

"No, I-- dammit Boone," I curse, doubling over as the hooks squirm around inside me.

"I meant-- I don't know what to say about you having to make that decision. I'm so sorry you felt that was the only option and I'm sorry no one was around to help you free her and the rest of those poor souls."

"I'm a monster. People aren't safe around me. I killed my own wife," Boone says in a voice full of self-loathing, his eyes faraway.

"Boone, come back, you're spiraling," I say gently, reaching out to take one of his hands in mine to try and soothe him.

If I'd been younger meeting someone like Boone, this truth might have spooked me into leaving him. But now? I've pulled the trigger to end more lives than I can remember. We all have our regrets, and I won't let Boone be consumed by his any longer.

"Please don't leave me, Boone, you're no good to anyone barreling around the wastes sinking ammo into legionaries. Least of all yourself. You're hurting, and you deserve to say how much you hurt. Tell me. Let it out."

Boone has gone so stiff that I'm almost afraid he'll bolt, but then his hand squeezes mine back in a vice-like grip.

"It hurts so much Casey," he grinds out, as if each word is causing him pain to speak.

"I'm sorry Boone, I'm sorry they hurt you and Carla like this."

"Those _bastards_ were gonna-- they were--" Boone's face is twitching, and I realize he's crying.

Or he would be, if both of us weren't so damn dehydrated out here. But the grimace is there.

"Let it out Boone," I murmur in encouragement as I scoot close enough to rub the sniper's back with my other hand.

"You're safe here. Let it all out."

"I-- I killed her! _Carla_ ," Boone suddenly sobs, his voice shattered from grief.

I have no idea how to comfort this broken man. I'm no stranger to death and loss in this hellscape, but I've never mercy killed before and I hope to never be in such a position as Boone has.

He's rocking back and forth now despite me keeping a hand on him, saying her name over and over in a wretched tone. Asking for her forgiveness, saying he loves her, saying he's sorry. Saying he misses the sound of her voice and the way she'd laugh and the softness of her hair and the way she smelled, fuck but hearing that makes _me_ choke up.

Finally, after several minutes of crying and talking out loud to his dead wife, Boone sags against me and falls silent.

I'm afraid to say anything, focusing on keeping my breathing even as we lean into one another. It feels like something very important has happened, and I feel like if I move or speak I'll break whatever spell has caused this series of events. Even the hooks have stopped their incessant wiggling as I hold myself super still.

"Thank you, Casey," Boone rasps a few minutes later, just when I'm starting to drift off to sleep from his solid warmth next to me.

"I... I think you just... helped me. A lot."

"...I did?"

"Yeah. I don't... feel like such a monster any more," Boone says, disengaging from me at last to sit up fully-- and I try not to make a noise of disappointment as he pulls away.

"When we were sitting here, I heard her talk to me, right in my ear," Boone says, his voice cracking.

"She said... she said 'Be happy, Craig'. That's it, but... she sounded happy. Like she was before we moved to Novac."

Boone takes off his glasses and sniffles, wiping his eyes roughly with the heel of his hand.

"That's great, that's really great... but I'm super nosey. Is Craig your first name?" I can't help asking as I wipe my own fresh tears away.

When Boone nods, I smile at him. "Well then, it's only fair you know mine too now-- it's Elliott."

"That's a pretty name," Boone replies, and I realize that for the first time he's looking at me without his sunglasses.

Even in the starlight and surrounded by tear tracks, his brown eyes are gorgeous.

"T-thanks. I'm-- really glad you were able to get some closure," I say, redirecting the focus of the conversation back to Boone.

"Me too," he says, sighing and wiping his sunglasses on his shirt. "I'm exhausted..."

"Me too," I say.

"You slept all day," Boone comments, seeming to be in a better mood already.

"I thought you understood the energy drain of periods... I feel like I've been out foraging with you."

"Well then, I think it's time to sleep," Boone says, and I nod.

"I agree."

But when we lay down on our bed rolls for the night, even with Boone's blanket around me I still catch myself shivering as I doze off. It's not the same as being pressed close next to him... not the same at all.

**Author's Note:**

> this game is consuming my liffffeeeeee I just want to roleplay out all the shit that the game doesn't let me doooo aaaagh
> 
> also i edited this to change it from 'fish hooks' to just 'hooks' bc apparently the courier doesn't know what fish are?! and i love that.


End file.
